Vampire's Secrets
by LockedIn221B
Summary: John is a vampire. His mother is coming to visit making him tell Sherlock about his past. Maybe John wasn't always a 'good' vampire. What will his vampire mother be like and how will he keep Sherlock safe? Sequel to Vampire in Hiding.
1. Red Eyes

**Summary: Vampire in Hiding**

**This is just a quick summary of what happened in the first Vampire in Hiding. If you don't want to read the first one then this should give you a rough guide to what has happened. It may be easier to read the actually story first.**

**John is a 196 year old vampire. Sherlock finds out he is a vampire. They fall in love. John's old lover, Alexander, kidnaps John. Mycroft and Lestrade find out about John's vampire-ness and are shocked but soon recover. Mycroft, Lestrade and Sherlock rescue John and the two Holmes brothers make him regain consciousness. Alexander gets destroyed. In the epilogue, John and Sherlock are all happy and loved up when it is revealed that John's mother, who is a vampire, is paying them a visit but will she be a friendly vampire like John or thirst for power and is evil like Alexander.**

* * *

**Vampire's Secrets**

John ran his cold fingers through his cropped hair. _My mother?! I haven't heard from her in 25 years. Not since I left Alexander_. She had almost begged him to return to the affluent, powerful and handsome young vampire. That is why John left for Afghanistan in an attempt to break all ties with his family. John could feel his fangs descending and his pupils expanding until there was almost no colour surrounding the black of the pupil. His body was preparing to defend itself. He was going to have a lisp thanks to the fangs.

His breath was coming in short sharp bursts not helping him calm down.

"John?" Sherlock waited a few seconds for the vampire to stop and face him but he didn't. Instead the doctor carried on pacing the room quickly. "John? Please. You need to calm down."

"Calm down? Calm down? Yes! Of course. What an excellent idea! Why don't we all calm down and have a smashing little tea party with blood of every type and at the rate we are going that blood will be a majority yours!" The doctor spoke sarcastically at a pace Sherlock himself would have been proud of. When the detective's brain had registered the words his brow furrowed in confusion. _This isn't like John. What's changed? ... His mother's visit. So what is wrong with his mother? _The doctor continued to rage and rant as the taller man's mind wondered.

A sudden smashing brought the detective's attention back to the room. His eyes quickly located the source of the noise. John's tea cup of blood lay in pieces on the floor with the liquid that was once inside trailing thickly down the wall. _Mrs Hudson isn't going to be most pleased._

Sherlock looked up at where his partner was furiously marching in circles. He was travelling much too fast for any human walking speed. It was more like a human's running.

"John! Please. Calm down! I don't like you like this. It scares me." The detective barely whispered the last lines but he knew the vampire would be able to hear his whispered confession over his own fuming mumbling.

The doctor suddenly stopped and turned swiftly to face the genius, "Sherlock, you don't understand," John put emphasis on each and every word making sure that there would be no confusion, "No. Not at all. You see, Sherlock. You may believe you had a bad childhood of bullying and boarding schools but I'm afraid I can beat that hands down. Yes, bullying and being away from your family is terrible but I would have killed to get away from my family. That's not because of the usual teenage disagreements but because they enjoyed being monsters. They enjoyed watching the life seeping out of a person's weak helpless body. They had fun. They made it a game. They tried to be creative when it came to their victim's deaths. Not like me, no. They enjoyed telling the person their death was coming. They liked watching the weak pathetic humans struggle to break free. They could kill a person in one blow but they choose to make the person suffer psychologically and physically. They would catch people, half drain them then watch the person attempt to pull themselves away but the lack of blood makes you humans ever so entertaining. You become weaker and have to pull yourselves along by your fingertips. It makes us laugh. Your poor little fragile bodies pushed to the breaking point before we walk up to your squirming remains of a body and crush your skulls with one finger."

Sherlock looked up at the doctor confused as they doctor changed the way he was wording his sentences so they now included him. John isn't a violent vampire but the drop in his voice certainly made him sound threatening. _He wouldn't do that. He is kind and friendly. He would protect us from his family. That must be why he fled his family and their cruel ways._ John's cackling interrupted Sherlock's train of thought.

"Ha ha ha. We had such fun. My favourite was when we hung you upside down like geese at a butcher and drained you... for fun. The repetitive drip... drip... drip of the crimson liquid is like a symphony to our ears ... and now Mother is coming! Oh we will have such easy pickings in such a large abundant city. It will be time to feast!"

John suddenly fell down onto his knees. Clutching the sides of his head in his powerful hands. Sherlock could see the pressure the doctor was applying to his skull. He knew that the pressure would have already broken any human skull. He wanted to tell his doctor to stop but he feared angering the ferocious creature. The doctor scrunched his eyes tight against the pain that was coursing through his veins. Sherlock rose almost silently from his seat and made his way towards Lestrade without making any noise. Drawing the vampire's attention was something he definitely didn't want to do. Both detectives in the room stepped back from the vampire.

John threw his head back as a deep grumbling sound reverberated throughout his chest. He let his mouth hang open as he licked his thin lips quickly with darting movements.

The vampire's eyes suddenly shot open to allow the doctor to stare at the pale ceiling. His head suddenly rolled to the side as if he couldn't hold up the weight. His eyes boar into Sherlock's as he attempted to steady his breathing. The detective and the DI shuffled back to increase the distance between themselves and the vampire.

Sherlock frowned as he stared into John's eyes. Instead of their being the doctors normal deep expressive pupils there was something else. The entire eye was blood red. There was no pupil, no iris and no white of the eye, purely red. The doctor panted obviously out of breath. He stayed crouched on the floor while a deep hiss escaped from his mouth.

The doctor suddenly emitted a blood curdling roar that was unsuited to the man's small size. Sherlock stepped forward swiftly in an attempt to reach his lover and hold him close to his chest. John halted the detective's progress but flinging one arm out with his hand stretched up in a stop sign.

"No." John managed to croak out.

"Why? John, tell me! What's wrong?" Sherlock wanted to reach for his blogger and never release him. John still held out his hand to stop Sherlock.

If the detective was closer he would be able to see the red in John's eyes moving as his eyes darted around the room. The colour moved independently from the actual surface of the eye as if the inside of the eye had filled up with blood.

John released a fearsome growl which turned into a scream. Sherlock attempted to leap forward but Greg pulled him back.

The vampire took deep breaths until he froze and became motionless. Lestrade's arms around the detective loosened as they watched the doctor sit stock still. John suddenly shuddered and turned his head to the detectives.

The human men stood watching in confusion as John opened his eyes. The redness was disappearing from his eyes. It looked as if the blood was draining out the back of the vampire's eyes.

The doctor let out a ragged breath before smiling apologetically at the other two men. John stayed where he was while trying to regain control over his breathing. The consulting detective and the DI stayed a distance away from the man on the floor weary of what he could do.

Shakily, John got to his feet. He had to lean against the detective's armchair to support himself.

He was back to normal save for the fangs and blown pupils but at least he had seemed to have control over himself.

"Sorry." The S made the vampire's lisp prominent and the side of Sherlock's mouth twitched up creating a half smile.

"What. Was. That?" Sherlock stayed away from his lover in fear of the man losing control again.

John cringed, "I'm afraid I haven't been completely honest with you."

Both the detective and the policeman raised their eyebrows.


	2. The Chosen

"What was that?!" Sherlock demanded to know. He pointed to the space on the floor where John had previously been.

John let himself collapse into Sherlock's armchair, not trusting his legs to hold him up. He fidgeted awkwardly. He didn't want to answer this question but he knew it was inevitably going to be asked.

"Umm. I haven't been completely straight with you two about living the life of a vampire or just being a vampire full stop." John sighed and looked down at his hands in shame.

Lestrade stepped forward to stand beside the taller man. It was obvious that he wasn't %100 comfortable in John's company anymore, "What do you mean?"

John looked up at the two uncertain men. He sighed again suddenly extremely aware of their eyes on him. He could feel the trust slipping away with every moment of strained silence.

"Well," He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not sure where to start. "Every vampire has two sides. Kind of like a split personality. One side will be peaceful, gentle and respect human life... The other has an unquenchable thirst for power, control but mostly human blood. You just witnessed my ... darker side. Most vampires are raised by a family who support the Society of Vampires which means they will try to raise their child without the dark side influencing them. In short, they are raised to be good, wholesome vampires but on the other hand, there is a group of vampires who call themselves The Chosen. They believe that vampires were chosen to control the human race and do what they wish with you. They raise their children to want to kill you... for fun. They teach that they are like Gods and that they have been given the right to control you."

Sherlock found the concept easy enough to keep up with but he knew that Greg was struggling with the idea that there are hundreds of cold-blooded, power crazy vampires out there who wish to control the human population.

"So ... The child vampires raised by The Chosen will have a stronger dark side" Lestrade tried to make it clearer for himself.

"Yes, exactly. Unfortunately, I was raised by The Chosen so my evil side is quite strong." Sherlock knew that 'quite' was an understatement. John obviously didn't want to scare them off. "Although, after I left The Chosen I realised how wrong we actually were and later joined the Society of Vampires. They were keen to get my insight, you know, behind enemy lines and all that. As you can see, I have attempted to ignore the cravings for death and killing to instead use my medical knowledge for good. That is why I became a doctor. To make up for the blood I split for quarter of a century. My mother's visit just reminded me of old times." John tried to smile reassuringly at the two men but his descended fangs didn't help too much.

Lestrade frowned, "Didn't you say your mother is paying a visit here?"

John nodded while cringing. He knew what was coming.

"With him here?" Greg pointed to the detective who had been silent.

John attempted to stand but his legs weren't ready yet so he lowered himself down into the chair again, "No, he won't be here. He will go and stay with you until I convince my mother to leave London." His tone didn't allow for any negotiations.

Sherlock let his jaw fall open, "No! John, I can care for myself. I'm not leaving you again."

"I have no doubt that you can handle yourself... Well, maybe there is a little bit of doubt but this isn't a criminal or an average murderer. She could kill you in seconds and I-I wouldn't be able to stop her." John's voice broke at the thought of losing Sherlock.

"John. Please." Sherlock begged. His eyes pleading with the doctor.

"Sherlock... Pack a bag. It shouldn't take any longer than a week." The ex-solider turned his head so he wasn't looking at the detective's puppy dog eyes.

He heard Sherlock drag his feet to the bedroom that they had been sharing for just over three months. John sighed again. Being in a relationship with a human is so much hard work. He heard Lestrade settle down on the sofa. John looked over at Greg to find the man studying him intently.

"Sorry for throwing this on you. It just... I... I don't want him to get hurt. I don't know what else to do." John felt that it was right to apologize to the policeman.

"Nah! No problem, mate. It's what I would do. Just ignore his whining." Even though he shrugged it off John could tell Lestrade wasn't completely convinced that he would enjoy being with the demanding detective 24/7.

John and Greg sat in companionable silence while John listened to Sherlock grumbling to himself in the other room. Sherlock had forgotten about John's vampire hearing. John could hear every mumble and rude comment Sherlock made about 'bloody vampires'.

John listened as Sherlock made a particularly vicious statement about him being a 'bloody short pain in the arse... with fangs!'

"Oi! I heard that!" John shouted into the silent flat making Lestrade jump. The cursing from the other room stopped for a second before the grumbling started commenting on 'stupid idiot vampiric hearing'.

"I didn't say anything!" Lestrade looked around bewildered.

"Not you! Sherlock was being rude about me."

"You can read his mind?!" Greg's eyes opened wider in shock before worry and slight embarrassment crossed his face, "Can you read mine?"

"What?! … No! I can hear him mumbling to himself. I have pretty good hearing."

Understanding flooded the policeman's features and the red embarrassment on his cheeks faded.

Sherlock made his way back into the living room dragging a small hold-all suitcase behind him. The phrase 'if looks could kill' sprang up in John's mind. Trying to ignore Sherlock's death glare John turned to Lestrade.

"Thanks again, Greg. Don't let him get himself killed by my mother. I'll contact you as soon as I am certain that she is gone. Thanks." Lestrade nodded in confirmation before heading down the stairs to give the boys some privacy to say goodbye.

John stepped forward towards his partner while entwining his cold fingers with Sherlock's warm ones. With his free hand he pulled Sherlock's head down so he could kiss him gently on the lips. Sherlock could feel John's fangs. It was a sensation he would never get used to. When he pulled away Sherlock's eyes were nearly tearing up. _John. I can't leave John again._

John gave him another soft kiss before picking up the small suitcase and carrying it down the stairs knowing Sherlock would follow.

The doctor placed the hold-all in Lestrade's car boot before walking back over to Sherlock and wiping a stray tear away from his lover's cheek. Sherlock turned his head embarrassed to be crying.

"Don't worry, love. It's not for long."

Sherlock nodded and opened the passenger side door and slipping gracefully in.

John stood on the door step and waved goodbye as the men pulled away from the curb. He didn't want Sherlock to go but it was for the best. John stayed by the door until the car had gone completely out of sight. He sighed and turned back into the flat locking the door behind him.

* * *

Sherlock gazed out of the car window as the made their way to Lestrade's flat. He knew John wouldn't send him away without a reason. He tried to ignore the tears that were occasionally trailing down his cheeks. He was also attempting to be oblivious to Lestrade's concerned glances.

Greg felt partly responsible for the silence so decided to cheer the young man up.

"Don't worry, Sherlock. It's only a few days. I'll find some cold cases for you to have a look at." Greg smiled across at his friend.

"I'm not worrying." Sherlock rushed to wipe away a tear.

Lestrade sighed and looked ahead at the road. _This is going to be a long few days_, his mind warned.


	3. Unmet Expectations

John quietly made his way up the stairs to the flat. He missed Sherlock already but he would wager that the detective himself would already be distracted by cold cases and telling Lestrade how incompetent he is. Sherlock didn't like being bored and being sentimental probably led to boredom in the genius's case.

John sighed and shook his head in an attempt to remove the thoughts from his head. He glanced up at the clock wondering what time his mother would make her appearamce. John paced the living room for a few minutes before taking a deep calming breath and he sitting in his armchair. _No need to panic. Send her away. Get Sherlock back and carry on as normal_. His checklist was simple but the doctor knew completing each point would be a challenge.

The vampire knew his mother would be visiting today but he knew not what time that would be. The doctor sighed and stretched his legs out. He was beginning to get bored with waiting and needed something to do. The vampire rose from the chair and began pulling his partner's papers into neat piles. He wiped the dust away from the selves and books. He washed up any dishes that lay around the flat. He even pulled out the old hoover and set about cleaning the floors.

A few hours had past, the flat was now cleaner that it had been for years. It was almost tidy enough to be called a normal flat... almost. Stains on the kitchen table from chemicals really drew the eye and the bullet holes in the wall created a slight sense of chaos.

The light was beginning to fade outside causing shadows to lean into the newly cleaned room. John lowered himself into his chair expecting a knock any minute.

* * *

As John had predicted, there was a light knock on the door less that 10 minutes later. John frowned as he smelt the air, the faint smell of vampires came under the door. It was a defence mechanism. If enemies can't smell you then it's harder to find you. That is why all vampires have minimal smell to them. There was more than one person stood outside his door. In fact, he could tell that there were tens of people. Actually, vampires, to be more specific.

The doctor walked over to the door and took a deep breath before opening it.

John pulled open the flat door to be greeted by a flock of pale faces. Just as he had thought, there were many vampires at his door.

Stood in front of the other vampires was a pale woman with raven hair which fell in soft waves down to her waist. Her flawless skin was almost completely white which was different from John's Afghanistan sun tanned skin. Her blood red lips framed her pearl white smile. Both perfectly shaped eyebrows were raised in surprise as if she didn't expect to see John behind the door. A large emerald that hung from a thin chain around her neck brought out the deep green of her piercing eyes but John could still see a slight red tinge around the iris. A sign that she often let her darker side show. Her skin was so pale it would make Sherlock's look tanned. She still looked reasonably young for a mother of over 25 children. She only looked about 15 years older that John despite the fact that she is his mother.

"Johnny!" The woman walked elegantly forward while wrapping the solider into a cold hug and kissing his cheeks.

"Mother," John answered blandly, making his disapproval of her visit clear. "Nice of you to bring the family."

The woman let go of her son and practically glided into the living area. Her old fashion dress, more suited to 17th century France, trailed out behind her.

"Johnny! I expected you to do better than this! You can use the money we send you even if you don't want to associate with us! There must be a few hundred thousand in that account. At least enough to buy a better flat that this! Anyway, I am not here to scold you! Are you going to invite your siblings in or are you going to leave them there?" She gestured vaguely to where John's brothers and sisters were gathered.

John turned to the vampires on his door step and waved them in.

"Hey, John." They said one at a time as they entered the flat whilst John greeted each one.

"Hello, Marcus, Luke, Benjamin, Michelle, Ella, Toby, Alexandria, Peter, Paul, Samuel, Daniel, Elizabeth, Victoria, Jessica, Margaret, Antonio, Joseph and of course, David. Please make yourself at home."

John mother tutted as she gracefully moved around the flat which clearly didn't fit her expectations. She spoke to John but it was obvious that the majority of her attention was on inspecting the flat, "The others apologize. They couldn't make it. I don't think this flat could take any more people anyway. It is much too small."

John glanced around the flat which he had once thought was a reasonable size. The doctor watched in silence as his siblings began to get louder and louder. John just stood amongst the chaos as his mother complained, some of his brothers were searching for his blood supply ( judging by their triumphant cries John guessed they found it), a couple of his sisters were pulling the bow across Sherlock's violin creating screeches from the instrument. A few of John's siblings were looking through old history books that were once placed neatly on the shelf and laughing at the inaccuracies, they would know, they were there. One of his sisters was poking her finger in the bullet holes in the wall and attempting to ask John how it happened but the noise level was too high for any form of communication. John's favourite sibling, however wrong it is to have one, was David. He was the youngest to come and visit. David was only 50 so looked like he was in his early teens. He stood in silence opposite John, slightly embarrassed by their family's behaviour. The young vampire shook his head gently before turning to gaze out the window.

The doctor turned and walked quietly but swiftly towards the bedroom he usually shared with Sherlock. He checked to see nobody was watching him before he slipped silently into the room. His family could be dealt with in small doses but when they all came at once John just couldn't deal with them. The blonde pushed the door shut behind him with a soft click. The wood didn't stop the noise but made it a fraction quieter. Even if the fraction was only small.

The solider sighed and collapsed back onto the bed. He lay like that for a minute or so before he heard his phone buzzing. John's eyes darted to the bed side table where his phone was lit up and vibrating. He picked up the device and looked at the caller ID.

**_Sherlock Holmes_**

**_Previously- 32 missed calls, 43 text messages._**

John contemplated ignoring the detective's attempts to contact him but knew that would end up with Sherlock trying to come and find John and that was the vampire's worst nightmare.

"Yes?" John sighed into the phone trying to be louder that the noise in the rest of the flat.

"John?! I've been calling and texting for the last 3 hours"

"Yes, my phone already told me." John sounded as if all the enthusiasm had been sucked out of him.

"John, your rubbish with technology."

"I am 196 years old, Sherlock. I think I have the right to be slightly behind." John still kept the same monotone.

"Is everything alright, John? Are you hurt? Do I need to come and look after you?"

"No! No, Sherlock! Stay right where you are! Our flat is infested with blood sucking parasites!"

There was a brief pause from Sherlock's end of the line.

"What? Have I missed something?" The detective inquired.

"My family has arrived!" There was a crash as one of their plates smashed and from the sounds of it, against a wall.

"John?! What's going on?"

"I have a large family, Sherlock. There are 19 vampires in our living room. 18 of which seem set on breaking or damaging everything!" John hissed into the phone.

"And you are?"

"Hiding in our bedroom."

There was another slight silence from the consulting detective.

"Aren't you supposed to be getting them to leave? Not holding a party"

"Yes, Sherlock!" John sighed, "I am going to wait until they start to calm down before I ask them when they are moving on."

"Asking when they are leaving and telling them to leave isn't the same thing." Sherlock mumbled.

"Sherlock! Where is Greg?" John rubbed his palm over his face.

"Sat opposite me. He is trying to get me to leave you alone. He told me to stop ringing you but I said you might be in trouble"

John was about to answer when he heard his mother calling him from the other room.

"Sorry, love. I've got to go!" John hung up before Sherlock could answer.

The bedroom door was opening as he was pulling the phone away from his ear.

His mother froze in the door way, taking in the room. Her perfect eyebrows furrowed in confusion before she turned to John. Slight caution was written on her face and in her movements.

She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the words. John pushed himself up onto his elbows watching his mother carefully.

"John?" She managed to stutter out. A few of the doctor's siblings started to gather inside the bedroom, mainly congregating by the door. "Why do you have a bedroom? And why does that bedroom smell like a human?"

John opened his mouth but shut it again when the elder vampire held up an elegant hand.

"No, let me rephrase. Why does this flat smell like an _alive_ human? One whose blood hasn't been drained?"

John stuttered before finding the right words.

"That would be Sherlock. My flatmate ... and partner."

John's mother frowned and a look of disgust mixed with disappointment settled on her perfect face.

"John. I realized that your flat smelt like a human's but I just hoped it was because of visitors or that housekeeper downstairs." John's siblings were staring at the doctor in shock. John's mother continued, "A human, as well! Oh John! Why? Your father and I brought you up to be a proper vampire but now you've converted to one of those human loving, people protecting embarrassments!" she hissed

Her eyes were beginning to go red as the eye started to fill up with crimson liquid. She was physically shaking as her anger raged through her.

"Goodbye, John!"

She stormed out the flat but she still made it look like she was gliding. How can every vampire I know walk around like they aren't even touching the floor then I come lumbering in with almost no coordination.

The rest of John's family stood completely still not knowing whether to follow their mother or stay and wait for her here. One by one they seemed to decide to follow their mother or make their way home independently. It only took a few minutes before all of the vampires were gone apart from John and his brother, David.

"I like your flat, by the way."

John looked over at his brother and gave him a weak smile. His family visits always drained him. The doctor didn't offer any other reply.

"And congratulations... You know, with Sherlock."

John smiled again and patted the bed next to him. David took the hint and lowered himself down gingerly next to his brother.

"Thanks, David... I've missed you, y'know that?"

David shook his head, "You're just saying that because I'm the only one who stayed."

"Nah! I think about you all the time... especially when I see a little weak, ugly and moronic miserable teenager!" John mocked.

David hit John on the arm, the impact would have broken the bone if the doctor was human. They glared at each other before falling into fits of laughter.

"To be honest David, I expected mother's visit to be much worse."

"She was going to try and convert you back to The Chosen. She had the blood ready and everything! Also, you haven't seen the state of your kitchen!" David tried to lighten the mood.

John smiled down at his brother. David looked just like he did at that age: small, blonde and with a mischievous grin.

"Where are you staying over the next few days?" John questioned his little brother.

David rubbed his palms together, a nervous habit that John found adorable, "Well, mother was hoping that we could stay with you but she did expect you to have a, at least, 4 bedroom house."

"Stay with me... and Sherlock, of course," David looked uncertain. "I insist! You can use my old room upstairs."

"Um... John?"

"Yeah?"

"You've been spending too much time around humans." The younger vampire was attempting to hold in the giggles that threatened to escape.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"I don't need a room. I don't sleep." Sudden realisation crossed the doctor's features.

John burst out laughing at his mistake and David joined in comfortably. It was just like only times. They sat on the bed facing each other laughing until they became flushed.

"Sherlock!" John suddenly gasped. David brow furrowed in confusion before he remembered that their mother was angry, on the loose and possibly wanted revenge on Sherlock. The older vampire grabbed his phone off the side table and immediately tapped Sherlock's ID icon. John tapped his fingers against his leg as he waited impatiently for Sherlock to answer the phone.

After a while of waiting the phone on the other end was finally picked up.

"Um, hello?"

"Sherlock?"

"No, it's Greg. We had a slight argument and Sherlock stormed out but I made him promise to avoid Baker Street and that General area."

"Oh God! My mother is out there and she's not best pleased at the moment! If she runs into Sherlock I don't think it will end well!"

John hung up after Lestrade promised that he was going to find Sherlock. The doctor turned to his little brother with worry plastered across his face.

"This isn't good." John swallowed.


	4. Hiding in Trees

Sherlock dragged his expensive dress shoes along the pavement. His trousers were getting heavy from the damp. He pushed his gloved hands deeper into his pockets and pulled the thick coat into himself. The light from the street lamps reflected off the murky puddles Sherlock was trudging through.

The fierce wind blew down the detective's collar which was protecting his neck from the chilly winter's breeze and ice cold rain. He sighed before pulling in back up around his neck and chin whilst tightening his damp scarf. The scene around him was bleak and dull aside from the occasional set of Christmas lights which added a splash colour to the plain city.

His ebony curls stuck to his forehead as he battled through the typical English weather to find shelter. With each step he could feel his resolve wearing away, making him consider returning to Lestrade's flat. To the warmth and the dry. The genius shook his head, _no! If I go back I would need to apologize and I was __**not**__ wrong._

Sherlock's mind flicked back to the previous argument._ I guess Lestrade had a point. I was ringing him constantly for almost 4 hours... but I needed to know if he was okay, _the detective tried to reason with himself.

Without the detective noticing Sherlock's feet led him in the direction of Baker Street. He continued to think, oblivious to where he was going. 221b was a five minute walk way when Sherlock suddenly realised where he was. He blinked a few times before turning on the spot and rushing off in the opposite direction. He kept up a good pace until he was satisfied with the distance he had built up.

Sherlock scanned the area around him to see if there was any where he could hide from the rain. The open gate of a park was lit by a small street lamp causing it to catch his eye. He hurried forward through the old gates. The detective wondered onwards with no real destination in mind.

Rain water had begun to trickle down his spine causing the man to shiver. He moved off the path, pulling his sodden feet through squelching grass to get under a large tree. He stood for a moment pulling his coat tighter in a feeble attempt to keep out the cold.

The detective could feel the water dribbling down his prominent cheekbones after dropping off his curls. He ruffled his raven hair making the droplets of water to leap off. Sherlock sighed. He missed John. He missed home.

Sherlock felt in his coat for his mobile and cursed when it wasn't there. He slipped a hand inside the thick coat feeling around in his jacket pockets when he couldn't feel it he searched on the inside pocket. He cursed again._ Fuck, I must have left it at Lestrade's flat. _Sherlock wasn't usually one for swearing but this situation called for it.

The genius was rubbing a gloved hand against his face in frustration when the sound of light footsteps reached his ears through the sound of the heavy rain hitting the ground. Never a people-person Sherlock stepped back further into the tree's shadow.

The detective's eyes darted around the path searching for the owner of the footsteps. He frowned when he couldn't see anyone else around. _Who would be out at this time of year especially in this weather?_

His eyes continued to search for another figure in the darkness but nothing and no one came. He relaxed slightly and lent back against the bark of the old tree.

The sound of a twig snapping suddenly drew his eyes into branches above him. He squinted into the darkness, searching. He sighed, it was probably just an animal or maybe the weight of the water on a stick. The detective tried to relax again but something didn't feel right. Something was off.

He stood alert for a little while longer. He was starting to get cold. He knew John would scold him for being out in this weather. He rolled his shoulders and neck, trying to relax. A small twig falling next to him made Sherlock bend over to retrieve it.

He studied it for a couple of seconds before drawing his conclusions. _The twig, which was more like a small stick, was sturdy so an animal crossing it wouldn't cause it to snap. The same applied to the theory of water droplets. He peered down at the end of the stick to see that it had been snapped using a considerable amount of force. So someone else is here. Someone is watching me. Someone who could silently climb a tree._ _Someone who_, Sherlock suspected, _was a vampire._

The tall man turned and his eyes searched the dark branches for a person. He was about to give up when a light thud caused him to turn around swiftly.

In front of him stood a woman. She would have been familiar to John but to Sherlock she was a stranger.

"What are you looking for?" She ducked her head and pretended to peer into the tree.

Sherlock didn't answer instead he was staring at the small leaf with had got caught in her waist long raven hair. She pretended to ignore the detective's glare. _She is obviously a vampire but is she John's mother or one of his many siblings?_

"Well?" She raised a well groomed eyebrow at the detective.

"I was looking for you." Sherlock replied casually.

She chuckled slightly, "What a coincidence! I was also looking for you, Mr Holmes. It seems I found you first though!" She laughed again but it sounded fake and cold.

"Well, I think that you had a slight advantage, didn't you, Mrs ... Watson?" In the dark of the night Sherlock couldn't see the faint red tinge around the iris of her eyes.

"Oh no!" She laughed again. Her happiness was getting on the man's nerves. "Only John's last name is Watson! People call me Mother."

Sherlock looked sceptical, "Even if you're not their mother?"

"Yes." She answered darkly to Sherlock's scepticism.

"Let me guess. You are not called mother because of your large family and kind nurturing ways?"

"You really are as quick as they say, aren't you?" She hissed sarcastically.

"Yes." Sherlock tried not to smirk.

"They call me Mother because I am the mother of our great and powerful organisation."

"The Chosen?" Sherlock questioned in an attempt to buy time.

She scoffed but Sherlock could see the disapproval plastered across her face. She didn't like him knowing. She stalked around him looking the man up and down.

"I suppose you could be worse. Although, John has done much better in the past."

"Alexander." It was a statement not a question.

"Ah, good. You can tell when someone is of a higher standard then yourself." She spat out.

"Have you heard what happened to him?"

Sherlock watched as something like betrayal flashed in her dark green eyes. As she circled him the light from a distant dim street lamp reflected off her eyes showing the deep red tinge staining the whites of the eye.

"Of course. Execution is a public affair in the world of Vampires. If you didn't go and see it, you at least hear about it."

Sherlock hummed as he took in the new data.

"I have to admit though. They were slightlyright."

"Who were right about what?"

"You have a lot of fans, Sherlock." She said his name like it caused a foul taste on her tongue. "So when John started working with you I did some research. Well, I didn't do it. I got someone else to do it. But that's not the point, lots of people, male and female, think that you are particularly good looking. It will be a shame to waste those looks on someone who is going to die in 80-90 years. Oh actually, maybe they might die any minute now." Mother bit her lip as if she said something naughty and she expected to be scolded.

Sherlock glanced around looking for any type of security camera. Anyway for Mycroft to see him and send help. His heart sank when he couldn't see anything that was of any use to him, not even a window for someone to see a man getting murdered in the dark.

Mother's fangs had descended while she had been walking around the detective but the lisp they caused wasn't sweet or adorable like John's but made Sherlock want to wince as the high pitched whistle assaulted his ears.

She smiled bitterly as she ran a long painted red nail along the tall man's jawline. She held his face in her hand and ran her thumb over his lips. He knew it was best not to fight or try and pull away. She was stronger than him.

She leant forward so her face was inches away from the detective's. Without breaking eye contact she closed the distance between them and took Sherlock's bottom lip in her teeth. She smiled before biting down hard on his lip causing her fangs to puncture the soft skin. She released his lip and ran her tongue over the blood lapping it up like a dog. She moved away from him, pulling his scarf with her leaving the detective's neck open.

Sherlock swallowed in anticipation. He knew what was going to happen. He tensed his muscles ready to run but she grasped his shoulder tightly stopping any possible movement.

Knowing that there was nowhere to run he froze to the spot. His mind was racing through every possible means of escape but none would fair against a vampire.

John's mother was standing a meter away when she suddenly turned, her eyes completely dark red. She leapt for the detective, her fangs aiming perfectly for his naked neck.

He didn't have time to react as the vampire got closer faster than a blink of an eye.

He closed his eyes preparing for the worst when suddenly there was a loud screeching sound followed by a heavy thud.


	5. Punching Walls

The detective swiftly ripped his eyes open to see what was going on in front of him. His eyes widened as the sight was not what he expected to see.

His eyes darted over the situation that was happening on the floor about 2 meters away from him. The detective smiled slightly as he realised that the screeching had been from Mother. The vampire holding Mother on the soaking grass growled over her shoulder to the frozen genius, "Are you going to just stand there or run?"

The vampire was out of breath as she struggled to hold the elder vampire to the floor.

"Yes! Good idea!" Sherlock started to sprint way but quickly turned back, "Where should I go?"

"Home! You'll be safe!" The vampire snapped while trying to stop Mother's flailing arms.

As Sherlock ran toward Baker Street he could hear shouts of pain coming from the dark park. It took the detective a matter of minutes to reach the flat. He burst through the door to find John pacing the room with a teenager watching him in concern.

John rushed forward too quickly for the taller man's eyes to follow. Before he had realised it John had grabbed him in a vice grip hug and had lifted him off the floor to spin him around.

Sherlock struggled to draw in a breath as John's tight hold began to apply more and more pressure.

"John?" Sherlock coughed out, trying to breathe.

"Yes?" John still didn't release the pressure but instead continued to cling to the detective.

"I can't breathe!" The genius rasped out.

John suddenly released Sherlock causing him to nearly fall to the floor but the vampire caught his arm just in time to stop him landing in a heap on the floor. Before John had even allowed Sherlock to get his breath back John ran a swift finger over the detective's slightly swollen bottom lip. A fierce frown formed on his face. Sherlock swallowed, slightly uncertain about how John may react.

"What. Did. She. Do. To. You?" Each word was calculated and viscous almost like John wasn't going to waste energy on being sloppy with his words.

Sherlock had forgotten all about the teenager who sat watching them.

"She drew blood from my lip and was going to kill me but another vampire stopped her."

A confused expression flashed up on the vampire's face, "Who was it?"

"She didn't say. She was a bit busy holding your mother on the ground but she had short jet black hair, about your height, skinny. I assumed she was one of your siblings but which one, I wasn't sure."

David then stood up and walked towards the fireplace, "You're talking about Harry."

Sherlock looked over towards the mantelpiece where the teenager was throwing the skull into the air and catching it with one hand. A frown spread across his mouth.

"Harry? The sister I thought was an alcoholic?" He looked over to John.

John nodded and chuckled to himself, "Yes, the scratches around the charger input was caused by shaking hands but not from alcohol. It's from the surges of energy by drinking directly from a Provider."

"And you don't talk much... because she is part of the Chosen?" Sherlock cocked his head to the side.

David joined in again, "Partly, she joins in when she feels like it. Sometimes she's good. Sometimes she's bad."

Sherlock glared at the teenager. _Who is he and what is he doing in my flat?!_ David saw the aggressive look and smiled sheepishly up at the detective.

"That's not the point! Mother was going to drain you!" Sherlock saw a shiver fall down John's spine. The doctor pulled a cold hand to cradle his partner's face. Despite the calm action, the ebony haired man could see anger forming in his blogger's eyes.

He wasn't mad at Sherlock, that much was clear. He was obviously furious with himself for sending the detective away. _Although_, Sherlock silently reasoned, _I was the one who stormed out of Lestrade's flat._ He wasn't going to tell John that though because an angry vampire is a dangerous vampire. He felt that he had a responsibility to calm the soldier some way.

"It's not your fault." Sherlock tried softly.

"NOT MY FAULT?! SHERLOCK! OPEN YOUR EYES! YOU ALMOST DIED BECAUSE I SENT YOU AWAY!" John shouted.

"I wouldn't have been much safer here." Sherlock tried to reason with the fuming man.

The consulting detective's eyes widened as John began to shake. It was useless; anything Sherlock now said definitely wouldn't be registered. The genius watched captivated as John's eyes turned red, the blood filling the inside of the eye. The vampire's fangs descended in a matter of seconds, his extreme anger speeding up each process.

Sherlock stood a few feet away from John until he jumped when David suddenly pulled on his damp coat sleeve. The detective felt the pressure pulling his arm get stronger as John began to hiss and growl slightly. He let himself be moved a few meters away; knowing that not doing as advised might end up with him being killed by his only friend.

With ragged breathing, John turned away from the other people in the room and lent a gentle hand against the wall by the door.

"John, don't" David tried to calm the soldier. In return, John looked over his shoulder and sent a disapproving growl at his little brother. Sherlock's eyes flicked over to the teenager to see him wincing, somehow he knew what was coming. Sherlock glanced back at John just in time to see him curl a fist and plunge it straight throughout the wall, as if it was made of paper.

John took a few heavy breaths before turning and storming out the door, his anger practically tangent. He didn't even bother with his coat, the cold rain would affect him anyway, he was on a mission and determined.

* * *

Sherlock stood frozen for the second time that night. He stared at the hole John had created in the wall. It went all the way through and demonstrated how powerful vampire actually were.

"You might as well sit. We don't know how long they will be." David collapsed into Sherlock's armchair. Sherlock begrudgingly took John's.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" The detective squinted suspiciously at the youth.

"The name is David and yes, before you say it, I realise that it is odd to have a religious name when I am a supernatural being. I am here visiting my big brother but unfortunately, my mother went bat shit crazy causing the trip to be cut short. John said I could stay for a few days before heading home, I hope you don't mind. John said you wouldn't."

"That's not appropriate language for a teenager." Sherlock was just attempting to get a reaction from the vampire. He knew the vampire was much older than he looked.

"I'm older that you. Compared to me you are the youth." Sherlock had to admit, he was now curious.

"How old are you?"

"50, give or take a year or 2. I lose count." David tried not to smirk but it broke onto his face anyway.

Sherlock hummed as he catalogued everything he could about this person.

"Are we safe here? Just you and me. Where's John?"

David raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Are you saying that I couldn't protect you?"

"Umm," Sherlock was speechless because frankly, he didn't think a small, thin and weak boy could help him. He knew he'd be better off with someone to help him though. "No, I was just wondering what if a large number of your siblings come back. I also asked something else. I'm waiting for an answer." Sherlock was desperately trying to change the subject. He didn't want to anger his only form of protection.

"He's probably gone for Mother. You know, to make sure Harry doesn't get too hurt and to teach Mother a lesson about messing with what is his." David shrugged to imply that it was simple.

"What is his?" The genius frowned slightly. John had never really been too possessive.

"Yes, you."

"Yes. I know it's me! But he's not a possessive person." Sherlock snapped.

"Yes. Yes, he is. Vampires are ridiculously protective of what they feel is theirs especially John... and especially when it comes to you." Sherlock raised a sceptical eyebrow. "He was out looking for you but a large number of our siblings felt bad so told him to wait here and they were going to look for you then send you home. John had to phone that policeman you were staying with. What's his name? George, Greg or something?"

Sherlock thought for a second, "Yes, I think it's George."

"It doesn't matter anyway. He phoned him to say to stop looking for you because there are 12 vampires currently prowling the streets so it's best to stay inside. He has been pacing the floor for almost an hour. But then you come home to say Mother was going to kill you. Of course, he's going to lose it a little bit." David started to look distracted. He was peering at the door.

"He wouldn't kill he-" A squeak on the floorboards from the stairs caused Sherlock to stop talking and turn his head to look where David had been looking for the past minute or so.

Too quick for Sherlock's reaction times, David had swiftly pulled the detective behind as him as he crouched down hissing towards the door. Sherlock knew the vampire's fangs would have already descended and he was ready to protect his brother's lover at any cost.

"Not a vamp." Sherlock heard the teenager mutter. _So a human is coming up the stairs_, Sherlock thought.

The footsteps continued up the stairs but this time they were more hesitant after hearing the vicious hissing. David's hiss changed into a deep throated growl as the person was about to come around the door.

Sherlock swallowed, _who could it be?_


	6. Bad Language

A disgusted frown grew on Sherlock's face as the visitor revealed himself by stepping around the door.

"Mycroft." Sherlock sighed in exasperation.

"Sherlock." His brother greeted not taking his eyes off the crouching teenager. David had his lips covering his fangs so there was no way in telling that he was actually a vampire.

"David, it's alright. That," Sherlock pointed at the government official. "Unfortunately, is my brother."

David rose slowly from the floor still growling but the sound was much quieter now. He looked up at Sherlock then back at Mycroft in one smooth movement. He obviously realised that what Sherlock was saying was true because he sat back down into the detective's armchair. Mycroft raised an eyebrow. Sherlock didn't let anybody sit in his chair let alone a teenager.

"Mycroft, what are you doing here?"

"I saw John leaving. Very quickly, might I add. I was just wondering why. Also Sherlock, why do you have an animalistic teenager in your charge?" Mycroft lowered himself gracefully down on the sofa.

"He is not in my charge, Mycroft. More of, I am his." Sherlock spoke as if it was obvious.

The overweight politician smirked slightly, "Okay then baby brother. Why is this pubescent teenager in your flat? I thought you had little time for children or did you and John finally adopt?" Mycroft sneered at his brother.

"Yes, Mycroft. You know I have little time for children but no need to fret, brother. We all know you are worse with children than me but this isn't a child." Sherlock spat out, finding this conversation to be mentally torturing him.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and looked over at the young boy. His eyes widened when he noticed that an unimpressed vampire was bearing their fangs at him.

"I am older than you. I could physically damage you more than you could imagine without even straining." Mycroft blanched at the youth's threat. He coughed awkwardly.

Sherlock turned to the boy suddenly curious, "Are you a member of The Chosen?" The boy smirked slightly before nodding in affirmation. "Then how are you not killing us now?"

"I've spent long periods of time with John so I've learnt to control the impulse to drain every last drop of blood out of you humans." David said cheerfully as if he was talking about his latest vacation.

The Holmes brothers shared a brief worried look. Sherlock wanted to change the subject, again.

"Tea, Mycroft?" The politician nodded gratefully. "David? Would you like some blood or something?" David nodded in affirmation.

Sherlock shuffled quickly through to the kitchen to search for clean mugs leaving his brother and John's brother to endure the awkward silence.

Mycroft gazed down at his hands knowing David was staring at him with his deep blue eye that were to some degree stained an alarming shade of red.

The elder Holmes looked up at the vampire, "Where is John?"

"Gone to find Mother and Harry." The teenager told the politician. Mycroft nodded and the silence returned. "What do you do in the government?"

The man looked over at the vampire with a raised eyebrow doubting he had any interest in what he actually did, "I occupy a small position in national security."

"I know that's a lie and I know you won't actually tell me." Mycroft smirked slightly as the vampire was actually correct.

The silence returned and David continued to stare at the man until Sherlock came back in with a tea tray.

He lowered himself into John's chair leaving the tray on the coffee table with a quick, "Help yourself," He'd put it together. He wasn't going to actually pour it. "But first, David. That is my chair. Swap with me now...," The vampire only raised an eyebrow, "Please." David swapped places with the demanding detective while rolling his eyes.

David poured some of the blood into one of the mugs and sighed in satisfaction as he bought it to his cold lips. Mycroft did the same but instead he poured tea not blood.

The detective, vampire and politician sat all sipping their drinks when David suddenly hushed them. He closed his eyes and strained to hear. Both the Holmes boys looked over at him curiously.

"Their almost home." The vampire said satisfied with his supernatural hearing.

* * *

A few minutes later, two vampires stood in the doorway. Both looked thoroughly exhausted and as if they had been in a pub brawl. Their clothes were ripped and untucked. Without even saying a word John led his sister through to the kitchen to clean themselves up.

A soft woman's voice echoed around the flat a few seconds later, "You're bleeding again."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" John cried exasperated. "I thought it bloody stopped!"

Sherlock could hear the tap running and wet cloths being dabbed on wounds. The detective looked over at David as the teenager was laughing slightly.

"That's not appropriate language to use when a member of the British government is visiting" David called sarcastically.

"He can fuck off for all I care and you can shut the hell up as well!" Sherlock and Mycroft looked alarmed at the doctor's bad language.

The young vampire was still chuckling. He looked over at the human's slightly frightened faces and tried to contain his laughter, "Don't worry. It's the blood loss that is making him snappy."

Sherlock was slightly reassured by the comment but Mycroft still looked appalled. Sherlock was going to explain to his brother about how John needed the blood otherwise he turned miserable when his partner hollowed from the other room.

"I am not being bloody snappy, David!" This caused the teen to laugh even more.

"Stop eavesdropping! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?!" David mocked.

"You know full well what I did to my mother with this mouth tonight and it's not eavesdropping when you talk so bloody loud." Sherlock was beginning to chuckle as well. The vampire's supernatural hearing was becoming amusing. He could tell John was starting to calm down, his language was improving.

David opened his mouth to speak but John knew he was about to.

"If you say another word I will come in there and drain you!" Even Mycroft was starting to find it amusing to watch a fight between vampires. It was a lot less physical then he expected. _Although, that's probably because John really does actually care for his brother, Mycroft reasoned._

David opened his mouth again when suddenly an empty mug came flying out of the kitchen. It smashed directly on the back of David's head. The impact would have hurt a human but vampires were tougher so it felt like a tap over the head.

"Ouch!" David held a hand up to cradle the back of his head being overly dramatic, "Johnnnn!"

"I warned you!" John shouted while laughing with Harry in the kitchen.


	7. Losing Blood

After a few minutes and a few more choice words both sandy blonde vampires came through to the living room. Harry was limping slightly and John was holding a stained blood red cloth to the nape of his neck. Harry was also holding a large jug of blood in one hand as the other hand rubbed the back of her neck. Elegantly, she placed herself next to Mycroft, ignoring his uncomfortable twitching.

John stared at his forearm for a minute. The humans in the room watched in confusion. The vampires, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what John was staring at. They had expectant smiles on their faces as it they were waiting for something amazing to happen. _A cut of some kind,_ Sherlock's mind deduced. After a minute of silence John smiled up at his sister before holding his arm up to show a light pink scar. She cheered and David chuckled. Sherlock frowned in confusion. He had expected a large gash or laceration to be on John's arm not just a scar. Although, he had never noticed that scar before now. His brow furrowed in bewilderment.

John then rubbed it roughly. He nodded in satisfaction then gestured for David to move from his armchair. The younger vampire let out a pained sigh before pulling himself out of the chair. As John settled into his armchair, David perched upon the arm of the chair displaying perfect balance.

Sherlock watched his partner in confusion. _What is wrong with the scar, John? Tell me!_ His mind demanded to know.

The detective and politician frowned even more as John, who was still holding the bloody cloth to his neck, held the scar to his cheek which caused an excited grin to spread across his face.

"John?!" Sherlock spoke firmly. He was beginning to become concerned with John's strange behaviour.

"Sherlock?!" John replied calmly but the detective could tell there was slight excitement hidden beneath.

"What are you doing?!" The genius demanded.

"Holding my scar to my cheek." Harry looked across at her brother with a sigh. She knew he was stating the obvious on purpose. "Alright, look. Sherlock, come here." John smiled reassuringly at his lover.

Sherlock was hesitant but after a few seconds he pulled himself up and walked over to where John sat. The detective got down on his knees so his face was almost level with the doctor's.

"Here, touch it," John held out his scarred arm with a comforting smile. Sherlock was slightly bewildered at the oddity of the situation. He could imagine how Mycroft was feeling since he was newer to all this vampire lark then Sherlock was.

Sherlock moved his hand up slowly to gently touch the pink scar. He pulled two fingers crossed the healed wound but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. He looked up to John for an answer, "I don't understand. What about it?"

John kept his kind smile but Sherlock could see in John's eyes that he was a little bit hurt that the detective didn't share in his excitement.

"No, don't worry. It doesn't matter." Sherlock could hear the partially hidden upset in his doctor's voice.

Sherlock took the vampire's hand, that wasn't holding the blood soaked cloth, into his own, "No, John! If it is important to you then I want to know!"

"It's nothing really exciting especially for you since it's like this for you all the time..." The blogger left his voice trail off. The vampire was running a finger slowly over the mysterious scar as if it was comforting him.

"John." The genius said sternly while raising an expectant eyebrow.

"It's warm..." The doctor said plainly. "It creates heat while it is healing." The soldier once again raised his scar to his cheek. The detective smiled as he finally understood why the vampire was enthralled by the healing gash. He placed a warm hand over the doctor's healing arm and beamed with pride even though, to be honest, it wasn't even that warm.

"What do you mean healing? That cannot be from tonight!" The arrogant voice echoed around the room. It was clearly from Mycroft because everyone else in the room understood the vampire healing process.

Harry turned to the posh man that was sat next to her on the sofa who, until now, hadn't asked a direct question to any of the supernatural beings, "John got that cut just under two hours ago. It's taking forever to heal. It's probably because it was so deep or maybe because he seems to be losing blood an extraordinary rate. John, you do realise that cloth you are holding to your neck is dripping blood know." She spoke the last line directly to her brother.

Mycroft let his jaw fall slack as he processed the new information. John moved the blood soaked cloth away from his neck and shuffled out to the kitchen to get a fresh one. The pristine white of the cloth was ruined in seconds as the blood continued to flow stubbornly from the bite mark on the vampire's nape.

Sherlock moved back to his seat and watched as his brother asked questions to Harry about vampires. The vampire didn't seem happy to be interrogated by the man. She kept her answers short and precise in a hope that Mycroft would get the hint and back off. Unfortunately, he didn't get the obvious sign of frustration so Sherlock decided to jump in to save the woman.

Sherlock steered the conversation towards their mother. The detective studied her body language as she spoke. It showed respect but disapproval at the same time. It made Sherlock want to tut at emotions again. The conversation was beginning to get on the sociopath's nerves.

A small whimpering noise made Sherlock turn to face his partner and David. The younger vampire was lightly shaking his brother's shoulder and softly calling his name.

"John? John? John?" Sherlock watched as the boy became more panicked with each time he called the name.

The doctor's eyes fluttered but he couldn't keep them open. Sherlock launched himself up from his chair so he was knelt down in front of John, again. He felt for a pulse, it was weak. The genius didn't know what was happening.

"What is happening?!" Sherlock shouted at Harry.

Too fast for the detective's eyes, Harry was beside John and holding up the dripping cloth. The tall man watched as a few drops of crimson blood fell from the rag. Sometime during the conversation John had begun to feel faint due to blood loss. He tried to ignore the symptoms but it had become harder and harder to hold his eyes open so eventually, after struggling for several minutes he let his eyes drift close.

The only one not panicking, Mycroft stood and stepped closer.

"Quick, David, go and fetch John's medical kit from his room. Sherlock, go and get as much blood as you can manage. Harriet, why isn't this healing?" Mycroft spoke in a calm but firm voice. Nobody would disobey. He was peeling off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

"I-I'm not sure... actually, it's probably because it is a vampire bite. We have this stuff in our saliva which slows down the healing process for humans and vampires alike." She stuttered and stumbled through the explanation.

David was back before she had finished holding a large military medical kit firmly in his grasp. Mycroft started rapidly searching through the kit. He only recognised about half of the equipment but he wasn't going to tell his brother that. _Most of it is probably for removing bullets anyway_, he attempted to reassure himself, unsuccessfully.

The politician pulled out the equipment he hoped he needed to create stitches. He would try do everything right but he was no doctor.

He took a deep breath and tried to push the needle through the skin but the needle snapped with a loud ping sound. Sherlock was just hurrying in with two jugs filled with partly warm blood. He saw the needle break and the panic rising on everyone's faces including Mycroft's. The detective quickly put the jugs on the floor by Mycroft then rushed over to his desk. He pulled out one of the drawers and poured it onto the rug letting all the pens, notes and books fall everywhere. His eyes darted over the bits and pieces that had fallen out before turning and repeating the same process to the next drawer. He released a small sound of triumphant as he plucked a large darning needle from amongst the pile. He thrust it in Mycroft's direction.

The government official took the large needle from Sherlock's slim fingers and set about disinfecting it and getting it ready to sew Sherlock's lover together again.

"You don't have to do that." Harriet quickly mumbled to Mycroft.

"I do unless you want your brother's wound to get infected." Mycroft patiently lectured.

"No. We can't get infections. We have this chemical that our body puts in our blood." Harry explained while waving her hands in the air, looking extremely flustered. Mycroft stared at her with wide eyes. What more didn't he know about these interesting creatures? He looked down at the man who he once thought was a normal invalid soldier with a new sense of admiration. The vampire's eyelids were fluttering closed despite the obvious fight the man was putting up.

Mycroft positioned the needle next to the wound, ready to pierce it through the skin. For Sherlock's sake he hoped it worked. He looked up at his brother's worried expression before pushing down forcefully on the large needle.

What Mycroft didn't tell his brother was that he didn't actually know what he was doing.


	8. Neat Stitches

With partially shaking hands Mycroft created the first neat stitch. He took a deep breath and started on the next. The audience stood gathered around him with baited breath as he plunged the thick needle through the strong skin for the second time. The fact that people were watching him didn't help the politician's usually steady nerves. He decided that he needed them distracted, immediately.

"Is anyone going to start giving him blood?" Mycroft asked quickly.

Sherlock quickly snatched the blood off the floor and held it to his partner's cold lips. The detective watched as small amounts of blood dripped into John's mouth. He kept the jug in place but turned his head to speak with the healthy vampires in the room.

"When he gets better will it be like when he awakes up, all grumpy and vicious?" The sociopath looked down at his flatmate in concern.

"I was just thinking about that myself actually. I don't think so because he hasn't actually slept but if he falls unconscious then yes he will." Harry answered.

Mycroft pushed down again creating another neat stitch to accompany the forming row. He grunted as he pushed down again. The thick skin was becoming a hindrance and not a help but, never the less, Mycroft was almost halfway through closing up the crescent shaped wound.

The detective kept the blood to his partner's mouth as he spoke, watching the blood gently trickle into the parted lips. John's eyes stopped fluttering closed and instead they stayed cracked open slightly.

The tall man let a smile grow on his face as he could see his lover's health was no longer deteriorating. Sherlock looked over at his brother who was also knelt next to the doctor. The parliamentarian had concentration shown in every line on his face. Mycroft grunted quietly as he pushed the needle through the skin.

The wound was nearly completely stitched up and everyone in the room was beginning to feel the energy of panic leaving their systems. The detective looked up at the two vampires standing in the room, looking down at their brother. He noticed that even though they were worried for their sibling they couldn't help it when their fangs had descended at the smell of the blood.

Mycroft sighed with relief as he completed the last stitch. He leant back and studied his work with a small smile of satisfaction. _Always the perfectionist,_ Sherlock mumbled to himself.

The doctor's lips began to move slightly, welcoming the blood down his parched throat. The warm liquid was replenishing him almost instantaneously.

"Quite a quick healing process." Sherlock muttered quietly but of course the vampires could hear him clearly.

"Yes," David chuckled. The relief was clear in his voice. "We can take on blood stupidly quickly when we need it desperately. It takes a matter of minutes."

The consulting detective nodded slowly while watching his lover steadily gathering his strength. Within minutes, as David had predicted, John's eyes began to shift under his eyelids and his lips started to take stronger and stronger gulps of the blood.

John blinked slowly as the blood began to pound around his veins giving him an almost instant energy boost. His eyes focused on the dark haired man in front of him and a grateful smile grew across his face before his eyes slid gently shut. The vampire then lent his head back against the back of his armchair with a soft sigh.

Sherlock stayed where he was and watched his partner. He stayed by him while the doctor's cold fingers began to twitch as a result of the sudden energy. The genius held on to John's shaking hand as the visitors backed into the kitchen to give them some space.

Sherlock didn't realise when Mycroft left because he was too busy restraining the doctor, who had just turned into an energetic 5 year old. The vampire was bounding from room to room while carrying Sherlock, who was trying to get him to stay still, on his back. The consulting detective had wrapped his arms and legs around his partner's torso in a feeble attempt to weigh him down. David had laughed as John carried on jumping long distances across the room instead of walking.

The next to leave was Harry. She bid farewell to her hyperactive brother and fled before she was roped into holding him down. Sherlock thought it was very sneaky of her since she was the only one who even had any chance of stopping John. The detective contemplated making a run for it but he knew David wouldn't look after his brother. He would be more likely to just join in the carnage.

It took a good few hours before John was even close to being at a respectable level of hyperactivity. Sherlock glared at David whenever the young vampire looked as if he was about to join in.

It was late the next day when John had finally settled down. His keen eyes had seen Sherlock hiding a large yawn so sent the detective off to bed. The genius only agreed to leave after the younger vampire had promised to watch his older brother and not destroy the flat. Sherlock couldn't deny that he needed this sleep. He was shattered. The adrenaline had worn off hours ago leaving him feeling empty and drained.

As the sociopath slipped into his large bed, he couldn't help but marvel at the fact that there were two live vampires in his living room. He let out a small chuckle at the oddity of the situation. If anyone had told him a year before that John was a vampire he would have thought that they were crazy but now, after a few months of living with a vampire, it just seemed right. He often wondered how they got along before without John's supernatural abilities.

Just before falling unconscious he suddenly realised that he missed the familiar cold body that usually lay beside him. Sherlock fell asleep with a small frown on his face and a searching arm stretched out to the other side of the bed.

* * *

A few days later

Sherlock lay on John's cold chest and placed a gentle kiss on his relatively new scar. He then raised his hand to run his warm fingers over the crescent scar on his nape. The wound had left a mark because it was from the bite of another vampire. John said that it would fade within a year though. It made him curious about the scar on his partner's shoulder, the one john had before he knew the detective, but when the genius asked the vampire had dismissed his question before mumbling to himself about 'bloody silver'. From that Sherlock had everything he needed to make an educated assumption.

The doctor continued to lay on the bed completely motionless, apart from the gentle rise and fall of his chest, beneath the detective. The genius had to admit that the vampire had the act of sleeping down to a fine art. He often pretended to be asleep when he didn't fancy talking to visitor. He would snap his head back and part his lips slightly. The first time John did this Sherlock was bewildered but the answer came seconds later when Mrs Hudson and Mrs Turner began to ramble up the stairs. If John ever pretended to sleep on the sofa the detective often joined in. He would lie next to his partner, trusting John's judgement on whether the person was worth their time because, of course, Sherlock hadn't even heard the person approaching yet let alone identify who it was. Before the detective closed his eyes as he heard footsteps on the stairs he noticed a small smile on the vampire's lips. He leant up and placed a swift kiss on the cool lips before snuggling down next to his lover.

They often stayed like this for hours after the unwanted visitor had left. John still liked to pretend he was normal and not, in his eyes, a monster even if it was only for a couple of hours. Sherlock allowed him that because he knew how much it meant to his partner but also he liked to feel John's body slowly getting a tiny bit warmer as Sherlock shared his body heat. He didn't think John was a monster but he liked to help John pretend.

_And to be honest_, the thought to himself, _I could lie like this forever_.

**That is it! The last chapter. I'm sorry it took a while but it was playing hard to get. I'm hoping to get an epilogue up soon. Thanks for the continued support. Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

** Lockie (LockedIn221B) **


	9. Epilogue

**_EPILOGUE_**

**_Months Later…_**

"Are you ready?"

"Yes"

The man in the white lab coat pulled down on the large lever, which was positioned the wall, and within nanoseconds a powerful electronic current was rushing down the wires that were attached to John's arms.

"Feel anything?" The balding scientist asked while looking at John through the thick lenses of his glasses and tapping a biro on his clipboard.

"No" On John's answer the man pushed the lever back up into its previous position.

The man in the white coat turned back to the large desk fitted with large boards with switches and buttons on. He pushed his glasses up his nose automatically as he twisted a few knobs then flicked a few of the smaller switches.

As the scientist fussed with the technology, John glanced around the large square white room. He was strapped to a plastic coated frame, held half a meter in the air, by leather bindings. He knew that it would only take a small flinch for the leather to rip but he tried his best to remain calm and still.

He was still looking around curiously when a fake cough brought his attention back to the balding man. The vampire raised an expectant eyebrow as he looked down on the man from where he was held up in the frame.

"How about now?" The man asked.

John looked over to see that the lever had been turned back on again.

"Umm..." The doctor pretended to think about it. "No."

The scientist looked slightly disappointed but fascinated at the same time. He hurried back over to the desk and quickly turned the knob further. John watched and gave an apologetic shrug when the man looked over with a questioning look plastered across his face.

The scientist pulled the lever up again, effectively stopping the electric current. He then scuttled along beside the wires checking to see if they were damaged or if there was a break in the circuit.

The blonde doctor got bored of this display of the man running his fingers along the wires and he soon began to look around again.

There were no windows so all the light came from powerful tube-bulbs that hung high above the vampire's head. It gave the room a very sterile, clean feeling to it.

The soldier's eyes floated aimlessly until he saw the scientist. The man was short, probably even shorter then John. He had black whispy hair which was disappearing at the top of his head. The man's glasses were almost comical. They were the stereotypical nerd or geek glasses, with large frames and thick lenses. It was starting to annoy John that he had to prod them up his nose every 30 seconds. _He looks like a Bert_, John decided.

The man John now call 'Bert' shuffled back over to the knobs and hesitated before turning the knob up even further. John was curious to know how much voltage was he being subjected to but he couldn't see the half faded numbers on the desk and he didn't really want to ask Bert.

The Bert's hand hovered over the lever as he fought with himself about whether this was safe for John. The scientist nodded firmly and John knew that he had made up his mind. The man swiftly pulled the large lever downwards.

A sudden shock flew through John's body making him jerk slightly. His arms retracted automatically, ripping the thick leather bindings in two. The small shock didn't actually hurt but it was, well, a shock.

"Well, you obviously felt something then. How bad?" Bert pulled his head in slightly and winced expecting something really bad.

"Didn't really hurt… It was just a shock. I wasn't expecting it." The soldier explained clearly.

The man in the lab coat nodded slowly with his eyebrows raised in shock.

"That could have given a successful jumpstart to a car. Well, too much actually. It would have fried the batteries." Bert scratched his head. The black hair, what was left of it, was becoming static due to the large amount of electricity that was now flowing around the room.

The scientist looked down at the board with all the knobs and buttons. He stared for a moment contemplating how high to go next.

"Are you up for another one?" The man in the lab coat asked sceptically.

"Yeah. Give me whatever you've got." John shrugged. "Do you need to tie me up?" John raised his wrists which still had half of the leather binding on it.

Bert shuffled out of the room to fetch more leather bindings. He was gone for a while and John began to hum tunes to himself to keep entertained.

After about 10 minutes, John's shocker returned with a whole box of thick leather ties. The vampire raised an eyebrow.

"Well, the next shock will be much, much larger so..." Bert let his voice trail off.

The blogger just held out his arms. The scientist pulled up a chair so he was almost level with the doctor before putting bindings all the way up his arms so he couldn't move at all unless he did a weak pull. John decided he wasn't going to tell Bert that his efforts were wasted. He was starting to like Bert (or whatever his name really was).

The doctor nodded to the scientist once it was done. The man climbed down and sent the knob to maximum. Unfortunately, safety regulations only allowed for them to go as high as the national grid.

Bert moved over to the lever and placed his hand on it. He turned to look at John before nodding good luck. The scientist then plunged the lever down. The sudden sound of thunder exploded into the room and a blinding white light flashed, illuminating every crevice and corner.

After Bert had gathered his scattered senses he pushed up on the lever. The man in the white coat stood frozen for a moment and he would swear to anyone that his heart had been stopped by the sheer power behind the electricity. He could feel the energy milling around in the air and briefly wondered whether he had gone too far.

He suddenly remembered what he was doing in that room. Why he was pulling that lever. His eye raced over to the frame and his heart almost stopped for a second time when he noted that nobody was there.

A sound echoing from the floor suddenly caught his attention. On the tiles beneath the frame was Dr John Hamish Watson, who was curled in on himself slightly. The groans were coming from him, the test subject. Bert tried to step forward but his legs collapsed as he attempted to move forward. The shock still had him in a daze.

Suddenly the thick door behind him burst open and by the time Bert's addled brain had caught up the person responsible for the opening door was already kneeling over the still doctor.

The tall man suddenly turned on the scientist hunched on the floor. If looks could kill. The man in the long, dark coat had murder written in his eyes. Bert's employer, Mycroft Holmes, stood on in the doorway with disapproval etched onto his features. This look was pointed at his little brother.

"Sherlock." The parliamentarian said plainly. As if he wasn't trying to comfort the man nor was he scolding the detective. It sounded as if he had just read the word off a name badge in a supermarket and it meant nothing to him.

The sociopath turned his glare on his brother. The detective scowled at the elder Holmes before facing poor scared Bert on the floor again.

"What the fuck did you do?!" The genius demanded. "You fucking idiot! Surely you know nobody could withstand that! You-you..." Sherlock stuttered as he began to breakdown. He could feel tears brimming_. John. What had he done to John? MY JOHN! HOW DARE HE!_ Sherlock seethed.

The detective took a very deliberate and powerful step towards the man cowering on the floor but his legs felt like jelly as his world crashed around him. _Without John? No. It's not possible._

Mycroft looked like he wanted to step in but didn't know how.

"Don't blame Bert." A weak voice called from the floor behind the ebony haired man.

Sherlock immediately spun around on the spot to see his partner looking up at him. The detective could feel his legs beginning to give way so he allowed himself to collapse next to John. He held the vampire's head on his lap as the cold man lay on the tiled floor. John was grateful for the pillow Sherlock had created. He was feeling a little bit drained but considering what had just happened not too bad.

A shaking voice spoke up behind Sherlock, "Who's Bert?"

The detective and politician looked between the vampire and scientist in confusion.

"... You?" The genius made it a half question, half statement.

The man shook his balding head slowly.

Sherlock could feel the anger boiling up inside him, "If you have mentally damaged him. I swear I will kill you. I will pull your-"

The detective's threats were interrupted by John, who had started giggling. The genius raised an eyebrow.

"What?!"

John got out between giggles, "Can I do that again?!"

Sherlock looked down at his partner in horror, "Certainly not! I think your brain has been affected."

The doctor suddenly widened his eyes and pulled his mouth into an adorable pout, "Pwease, Sherly! Pwease!"

"Don't call me Sherly."

"Pwease!" The doctor grinned as Mycroft smirked from the doorway.

The detective turned to his brother with a sharp scowl, "I don't know why you're smirking. This was your idea!" The sociopath raged while gesturing at the frame.

The politician shook his head gently but the smirk didn't fade.

"No, dear brother. He wanted to repay me for keeping him conscious and I wanted to know the limits of his abilities so it was an ideal agreement."

John giggled again. Sherlock looked down in disapproval. The soldier looked up at him with deep sorrow filled eyes. The detective sighed.

"Fine. Bert, start the machine up." Sherlock had risen and began to stride out of the testing area.

The short scientist stamped his foot onto the floor, "I'm not called Bert!"

**_Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited and followed. Don't forget to review and tell me what you've thought of Vampire's Secrets. Many thanks, Lockie._**


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